A Tale of Two Chickens

For the longest time I have wanted to keep chickens in the city, but there was never a place for them. Then I moved here and started to think about keeping some chickens on the roof, but haven’t got around to it yet.

I assumed that it was illegal to keep chickens in the city, but I figured that the people who could see down onto my roof, the fob immigrants from China in the building to the east and the down and out in the SRO hotel to the west, wouldn’t really care. Still I didn’t get around to getting chickens.

I learned today that it is legal to keep chickens in Vancouver. I’ve built a shade and privacy shelter on my roof, and I think I’ll build a little coop for the legal chickens; they’d need shelter too.

I think I’m going to get myself some chickens, maybe two. Two of those plump russet coloured chickens, Rhode Island reds, like in the cartoons.

And now a tale of two chickens: It was the nest of times, it was the roost of times…

Ester told me about a chicken her mother used to have. This chicken was a great egg layer; she was just like the other chickens, hanging out with the other chickens, scratching, pecking, squawking, gossiping, and like other chicken she stopped laying so well as she got older. When she was about five years old, she grew out her tail feathers and her crown, and started crowing in the morning. Then she started to avoid the other chickens and started hanging around by herself in the corner of the yard. For the next ten years she lived as a rooster; she came out of the coop, took to the roost, and lived for another ten years.

A trans-gendered chicken. How amazing is that?

~ by thiscassandra on Friday 2 November 2007.

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